Chapter 16
The city lights blurred outside the window as her car raced through the highway, music blaring to drown out the chaos in her mind. Her hands were steady on the wheel, but her thoughts were a whirlwind.
She saw Kevin’s face in her mind-shocked, broken, desperate. And it still wasn’t enough.
He still wanted Isabella.
After everything.
Her lips curled in disgust.
“Fine,” she muttered, tightening her grip on the wheel. “If I’m not happy, she shouldn’t be either.”
She had spent her whole life clawing for love, for approval, for Kevin. And now, Isabella wa: walking around smiling, being adored by someone else? Living? No. That wasn’t acceptable.
She took a sharp turn into a quieter road. Her driver had the day off-she made sure of it. This was something she needed to do herself.
She knew where Isabella went every afternoon. The small alleyway behind the bookstore, shortcut to her art studio. She had timed it perfectly. The shadows were long, the street almos
empty.
Jasmine pulled over, heart thundering, eyes fixated on the narrow road ahead. And there sh
was.
sabella.
Walking alone, wrapped in a light cardigan, a sketchpad tucked under her arm. She looked.. content. Peaceful.
And Jasmine hated it.
Her foot hovered over the gas pedal. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter.
‘She shouldn’t smile,” Jasmine whispered. “Not after what she did to me. Not after what she Cook.”
sabella neared the crosswalk.
Jasmine’s foot pressed down-just slightly.
Then harder.
The engine roared.
Isabella stepped forward, unaware. The tires screeched as Jasmine accelerated, eyes locked on her target like a predator.
“Let’s see you smile now,” she hissed.
Isabella turned, her expression shifting-confusion, then fear-as the car hurtled toward her.
The world came back slowly-light first, then sound.
Beeping.
Sterile air.
Pain.
Isabella groaned as her eyelids fluttered open. The ceiling above her was blindingly white, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. Her body felt like it had been dragged through fire. Every limb, every breath hurt.
“She’s awake,” a voice said urgently.
Her gaze shifted, blurry at first, until she recognized Troy leaning over her, eyes wide with relief Beside him stood Lucas-her stepfather-face pale, hand trembling slightly as he reached for
hers.
“You’re safe,” Lucas whispered, squeezing her hand gently. “You’re in the hospital. You were hit i the alleyway. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”
Troy added softly, “The car came out of nowhere. You were seconds away from being killed, Isa. pulled you back, but… you still got hit hard on the side. They… they didn’t stop.”
She blinked, her heart beginning to race as she struggled to remember. Bits and pieces flickere n her mind-shadows, the roar of an engine, her name being called, and a car-fast, too fast.
And a face.
Her breath hitched.
‘I know who it was,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It was her. Jasmine. She wanted m dead. I saw her, Troy-I saw her. She looked me in the eye before she stepped on the gas-sh wanted to kill me!”
She jerked up, panic rising fast, wires pulling taut from her sudden movement. Her chest heaved ‘I don’t want to see her! I don’t want to be near her! Please, she can’t find me again-she can’t-”
Shhh…” Troy leaned in and wrapped his arms around her, gently pulling her into him as sh rembled. “Calm down. Breathe. You’re safe now. She’ll never hurt you again, Isabella. Not ever.
romise.”
She clung to him as her body shook with fear and memory. The nurse entered moments later checking her vitals and reassuring them both that Isabella would need to stay another day fo observation. Her injuries were healing, but she had a concussion-and the emotional trauma would take longer to fade.
_ater that evening, Lucas stepped out of the room to speak with a detective over the phone. Tro followed briefly to make sure all the security footage from the hospital entrance had beer submitted. They left the door closed behind them-but not locked.
That was their mistake.
Moments later, the door opened again-quietly.
Isabella lay still in the bed, eyes closed, unaware of the silent figure entering the room dressed ir scrubs and a surgical mask. The figure closed the door behind her, then slowly, deliberately
walked toward the bed.
Jasmine pulled down the mask.
Her face was twisted with rage. Her hair was tied beneath the cap, but her eyes were burning with venom. She stood at the edge of the bed, trembling fingers reaching for the pillow.
“I warned you,” she whispered, almost laughing. “I told you I’d kill you. And you just won’t die.”
